


Alive Reckoning

by tpchicken



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: 2x13, AU Timeline, Gen, It's all around a bad idea, Kara Lives!, Rough Draft, Season 2, because I posted it on tumblr, harold whump, season 2 episode 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8170840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tpchicken/pseuds/tpchicken
Summary: Kara escapes the bomb blast of Mark's vest and lives to destroy another day.  An AU to the end of 2x13 where Kara lives, fate intervenes in her search for Harold Finch, and our boys pay the price. This is a rough draft I'm posting for two reasons: 1. I already posted it to Tumblr 2. It's been sitting in my folder for a month with no time or motivation to finish it, so you might as well read what I got.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Remember this is just a rough draft, so please be gentle with me. And yes, it ends on a nasty cliffhanger. That was part of the problem I was having with writing it! Please enjoy it anyway!

“The name”

“I’m afraid a name is all I have for you for someone who seemingly does not exist on any know database. Perhaps you’ll have better luck in your search than I did.”

“Go ahead.”

(SCENE BREAK)

She had fought this battle for someone else, but the rewards had been hers. There had been sick satisfaction in ruining the lives of Mark Snow and John Reese, at least for as much longer as they were still alive. She gave herself extra bonus points if Mark had slunk back to the CIA to explode and hopefully take a couple more of them out with him. He was always such a company man, but he should’ve known better than to think they would accept him with his failure. Her trip to China had taught her how perceived or real failure was dealt with at the CIA. 

On the other hand, she was sure Reese had escaped to sacrifice himself in the most selfless way possible. What a disappointment he had become since they had parted ways. She had never understood the motivations that drove him, and she didn’t really care. Caring was for the weak, and just got you in trouble.

The only thing she did really cared about was the name currently written in her notebook. That was the biggest reward of the day. It had resurrected her life and gave her purpose. She was going to destroy this person that dared to destroy her. It was time to end this.

She was barely settled in the driver’s seat of her car when she heard the bomb wind up. Mark Snow was sitting in the back seat, grinning like the dickhead only could, “You were right, Kara, about me being dead. I’m gonna be great at it.”

There was no time to think. Her adrenaline surged, and the choice was either fight or flight. Normally, Kara was a fighter. Nine times out of ten she was going to throw the punch, shoot her gun, stop the enemy. On any other day she would’ve reached around and tried to stop the bomb vest before it exploded, but today she made the other choice. She grabbed for the handle and flung open the car door. She was maybe five steps away when the bomb exploded. She could feel the heat on her back as her body flung forward away from the flaming chards of the car.  
She landed heavy, the concrete scraping her hands and face. Willing herself forward, she crawled into the shadows, not wanting to be found by first responders that would undoubtedly be coming around the corner. Sufficiently concealed, she rested her back against the dirty brick wall of the alleyway and slowed her breathing. Only two things mattered to her now. First, she was still alive. The second was the name of the man who had sold the laptop, sending her to China, ruining her career and her life. That name was burning up in the flames that was once her car, but was also etched in her brain, like a fire that would not go out until she enacted her revenge. That name was Harold Finch.  
(SCENE BREAK)

Detectives Carter and Fusco stood outside in the street surrounded by response vehicles. The people around them were searching for a bomb somewhere on the 21 floors inside the building, but the two detectives knew the bomb was already on the roof, strapped to the chest of John Reese. Their eyes were raised in dreadful anticipation, a macabre vigil for the end of Reese’s life. At first it felt like the seconds were ticking in slow motion, as if time refused to allow this moment to happen, but then they realized that the moment had already passed and they locked eyes in a sort of confused relief. 

It was Fusco that dared to tempt fate, “Must have been a dud.”

The explosion came from the side street, surprising them all. They ran towards the disturbance, but were stopped at the sight of flaming, twisted metal. Carter ran around the blast radius, checking the area for possible survivors but saw no one. Fusco’s eyes continued to drift upward in expectation of another blast, but none came. 

“This wasn’t wonder boy?”

“No, John was headed for the roof. He wouldn’t have come down, knowing we were here. This must have been Mark Snow.”

“The other guy?”

“Yeah, but what was he doing in that car?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Fusco turned his head skyward again, “I just want to know what’s going on up there.”

“Just a guess, but Finch probably got up there and disarmed it before it went off.”

“Glasses, huh? Reece must have done something crazy in a past life to have him as a guardian angel.”

“Either that or Harold is just persistent enough to overcome Reese’s stubbornness. Think they’ll bother to let us know they’re okay?”

“They will once they need something. Come on Carter, let’s get out of here.”

Hidden in the shadows, Kara couldn’t believe her stroke of great luck. She had never really believed in a deity or karma. She only trusted herself and her own abilities until that very moment, when sitting singed and scraped in a dirty alleyway, she overheard Detective Carter speak the name of a man impossible to find. Harold Finch, in fact, had been discovered by these unlikeliest of detectives, and some great purpose and dropped this information into Kara Stanton’s lap. 

Best of all, the two detectives were working somehow with John Reese, who was working with Harold Finch. No matter how hard she tried to turn him towards the right, Reese had always pointed himself in the wrong direction, so it was no surprised he was somehow beguiled by the man that should have been his enemy. His foolishness aside, this certainly made her next tasks clear. She would follow Detective Carter until she led her back to Reese, and Reese would lead her back to Finch. Then she would destroy them all. 

For now, Reese was unaware of the situation on the ground. The explosion had been a sufficient distraction for John and Harold to escape the scene and disappear into the city. John was jittery from his narrow escape from death, while Harold, his own adrenaline surge residing, was attempting to keep pace. They had to cut back across Time Square to where Harold had parked the car. John allowed himself a brief daydream to fantasize about what he would do once he was back at his apartment. (The current list was shave, shower, food, sleep, in that order, but the idea of falling into his bed and sleeping for 48 hours was looking more and more appealing.) He was pulled out of his thoughts by the ringing of the first pay phone they passed. He looked back at Harold, his own surprise reflected in his friend’s face. 

Harold stepped gingerly to the payphone and lifted the receiver. Even in the dim of the yellowed streetlights, John could see Harold’s face visibly pale. It was obvious that it was a recognizable number, someone close to them. “I was at least hoping for a shower, but it’s bad, isn’t it Finch?”

Startled, Harold spoke, “What? No! It’s, uh, fine. You deserve a rest after your ordeal Mr. Reece. I can certainly handle this on my own.”

“Who is it Finch?”

“It’s no one.”

“Finch. I though we agreed not to do this again. Who is it? Carter, Fusco?”

“No.”

“Is it Grace, Finch? You need to tell me.” 

“No! It’s not, Mr. Reece,” Harold sighed, then whispered, “It’s me. It’s my number.”

John’s whole demeanor changed in an instant. Harold’s number, was not a number they could afford to lose again. He stepped over and placed his right hand under Harold’s left elbow to guide him quickly back to the car. They had to get back to the library now and assess the situation before them. It was unfortunate luck that the call had come so quickly after Reese’s own personal situations, but just as Finch had refused to leave him alone on that rooftop, he was certain he would not leave Finch alone to deal with whatever awaited them.

(Something here that explains what Finch and Reese do to keep Finch safe and solve the problem. Also info on how Stanton follows Carter, who leads her to Reese to leads her to the library. When Reese and Bear are off to before Stanton enters the library)

Finch would chastise himself later for letting his guard down so completely while in the library. The building wasn’t exactly an impenetrable vault. In fact, Finch and Reese relied heavily that the average New Yorker was unobservant and the façade was abandoned and crumbling. He had kept an ear out for the clatter of Bear’s claws on the tile that would alert him of Reese’s return from their walk. Until then he was utterly focused on combing through his many aliases, trying to identify where a threat on his life may come from. 

The threat was already in the building. He was unaware of it until the exact moment he felt the pinch of the needle in his neck, and he gasped through the burning as the liquid entered his body. He tensed through the shock, then struggled as his limbs went heavy and limp. He was thankful that his mind remained clear. His attacker sauntered into his field of vision, inspecting his computer monitors, the lavish surroundings of the library, and the clutter caused by the two men that shared the space. 

“Ms. Stanton.”

“Hello Harold. May I call you Harold? I’m sure you’ve heard so much about me from John, yet I know nothing about you except your charming name. I admit, I’m not really here to change that either. Our lives are already interconnected, talking about it would just be a bore. No, I thought it would be better if we got together and had a little fun!”

Kara walked around the small space, touching this and that, picking up knickknacks and playing them back where they didn’t belong. She traced the strings from the numbers on his boards to the newspaper clippings he had collected through the years. Harold was aware of her wanderings around his library, but his mind was focused on own breathing. It didn’t feel impossible to breathe, but his body felt asleep, thick and buzzy from the neck down, and it was impossible to move more than to glance at his screens. 

“Hope you don’t mind, but I’m waiting for our mutual friend. I expected him to be dead already, but imagine my surprise to find he had teamed up with the man who ruined my life. It’s such a small world!”

Harold took a deep breath, “Ms. Stanton, I’ve been aware of who you are and what you do well before now, even before you met Mr. Reese. Perhaps, I owe you an explanation and an apology.”

“Oh Harold, you’re so cute! Do you really think I care about your motivations or your excuses? Because I don’t. I’m here for one purpose only, and it’ll become very clear as soon as John returns. I think I hear him now!”

Bear had sensed something wrong from the moment they had entered the library. The dog’s demeanor change had not gone unnoticed by Reese. He commanded Bear to silence his growling, both of them silent in the vain hope their arrival had not been discovered. It was only seconds later that Kara’s sing-song voice floated down the stairs towards them.

“I know you’re here John. You should come up and join us.”

John removed his gun from the holster, ascended the stairs and slowly walked the hallway towards the main area they used as their secret headquarters. He could see Finch sitting motionless at the workstation. His face seemed strained and worried, caused by more than just Kara’s presence in the library. She was resting against a filing cabinet behind Finch, both hand occupied with her phone.

“Uh uh, John. Perhaps we should kennel your furry friend for the time being?”

“Or I could just let him go, I’d put money on him and I taking you down before you could hurt any of us.”

“That may be true, but then who would stop the bomb from going off that’s currently resting under the good detectives Carter & Fusco? So, do the right thing and kennel the dog.”  
John was too far away to see the phone, but from Finch’s panicked face when Kara placed the live video in front of him, he knew that she wasn’t lying. He pulled Bear back and commanded him to heel, preparing to take him back to a room they sometimes would leave him. For the briefest of moments, he caught Finch’s fingers tap slightly. It was a code they had previously discussed for such a situation, but before Reese could fully decipher it, Kara caught on to the deception. She grabbed the nearest, thickest book she could find and slammed it down on Finch’s hand. He cried out in surprise and pain. 

“Now boys, secrets aren’t nice! It’s good to see you’re regaining feeling, it means we can get the party started. Go, John. You’ve got two minutes to lock up your attack dog and get back here, or I start blowing up homicide detectives.”

When Reese returned, he could see that Kara had set up a tablet on display, the live video feed playing where they could all watch the fate of their detective friends. It was a reminder that she was in charge of this scenario. She had removed the computer equipment off the table (it lay in a heap on the floor, much to Finch’s chagrin) and placed a vacant chair across from Finch, where Reese was gestured to sit. Finch looked uncomfortable as the last effects of the quick acting drug wore off, but for the moment, he was mostly uninjured. 

“Listen Kara,” John tried to reason with her, “I know your angry about our time in the CIA, but that’s between you and me. We can leave Harold out of it. Let’s walk away together.”

“Oh, John. I’m not here for you. I got my revenge on you, even if you didn’t blow up. I’ve moved on. I’m here for the man that sold the laptop to China, who sent us to Ordos, and ruined my life. Did you know who that man was, John? It was Harold Finch.” She jabbed her finger towards Finch’s face. There was a moment of silence as the truth hung in the air. 

“I’m sure if that’s true, then Harold had good reasons for doing what he did,” Reese turned to look from Kara to Finch. Finch had been staring guiltily into his lap, but upon Reese’s words, he looked at his partner with gratitude. 

Kara laughed, “He’s really got you turned around, doesn’t he John? What is it, the money? The clothes? The polite, deprecating demeanor? Too late, I just realized I don’t care. Do you know what I do care about? Getting what I want.”

“What do you want Kara?”

“Closure, and you’re going to help me now, John, or there will be greater consequences,” she motioned towards the tablet screen. “They’ve got family, people that care about them. You care about them, too. It’s a weakness. You’ve always cared too much. So I’m going to exploit that. 

She leaned in close to Reece, her lips brushing his ear as she spoke, “Your pal Finch, I want you to break a bone. Not a little one, like a finger or toe, make it really count. I want him to suffer at your hands, to feel that betrayal.  
So you’re not going to warn him in anyway. Do so, and I will detonate the bomb. Refuse me, and I will detonate the bomb. You can hurt your friend for me, or you can lose them all. What’s it going to be?”

She pulled back slowly. It would be seductive if it hadn’t been so demented, but that was how Kara liked it. She liked playing with her food; taunting people instead of taking care of business. Reese knew it wouldn’t be enough for her to physically break them, unless she could mentally torture in the process. How could he possibly hurt Harold? He pulled away, mentally detaching from the situation. If he allowed himself to realize what he was about to do, what he had to do, he wouldn’t be able to finish. 

Finch had watched Mr. Reese’s face carefully and with great concern. (MORE WORDS HERE)

Reese stood up and walked towards Finch. From a seated position Reese towered over him, and Finch was a little unnerved as the space between them disappeared. Reese leaned over and placed his right hand on Finch’s left shoulder. Finch wanted to catch his eye, but the other man’s expression was mostly blank, like he was looking through the seated man. Yet there was something there that Reese could not mask. Finch had never truly been afraid of Reese, yes, there had been moments of doubt, if he had made the right choices with the other man, but he trusted his partner. This time, Reese’s touch was cold.

Now Reese placed his left hand also on Finch’s left shoulder, between his right hand and Finch’s neck. He seemed to hesitate now, but would not meet Finch’s eyes. There was no doubt now for Finch that whatever Stanton had asked of Reese, it included bodily harm for Finch. 

“John,” he whispered. “Just do it.” Reese’s eyes now met Finch’s, betraying all their sadness and regret, but Finch mustered all his hope and trust in his own gaze. 

“Today please!” they heard behind Reese. He pulled his left hand back and slammed it full force towards Finch’s left clavicle. The bone broke with a sickly crack, and Finch released a surprised gasp of pain, doubling over. He closed his eyes and tears flowed freely down his cheeks. The pain was worse than he imagined. He carefully reached with his right hand and cradled his left elbow, trying to alleviate the strain on the broken bone from the weight of his arm. 

“Neat!” Kara exclaimed with glee. She walked around and grabbed Reese’s arm. He stood motionless in surprise and horror that he had actually broken one of Harold’s bones. He regretted his actions instantly, even though he could tell that his friend held him blameless. Kara pulled him away, and he allowed himself to be led, not back to the chair he had vacated, but towards the bookcase ladder. Kara produced a pair of handcuffs and secured him to the ladder rail. 

“How are you feeling there, Harold? I had to get John in on this action first, he used to be so good at this stuff,” she walked behind where Finch was sitting and disappeared from view for a moment. Finch refused to answer her, but focused on breathing through the pain he was still feeling. 

Kara ignored his silence, turning her comments back to Reese, “I’m impressed you actually did it John, and a torso shot even! I thought you might go for the arm. I’m still a little disappointed though, if you’re going to go for it, you should at least go for the money shot.” 

She reappeared behind Finch, brandishing a baseball bat. Before Reece could even call out in warning, Kara reared back in perfect batting position and followed through on her swing, right into Harold’s left ribs. The force flung him from the chair and he landed in a crumpled heap on the floor, but Kara wasn’t finished. She pulled the bat back and brought it down on the man on the floor twice before flinging it away across the room.  
Reese was pulling on the restraints, trying to see if his friend was alive. He was unconscious on the floor, but John could just make out a slight rise and fall of the battered ribcage. Several ribs were sure to be broken, but there was no way to assess the damage from his secured position across the room. He tried to listen for the sounds of wet breathing, worried about a punctured lung, but he could not calm his own labored breathing and blood pounding in his ears. 

“Well that was fun, ya’ll got anything to eat?”

“Kara,” his voice was a warning and a threat.

“Relax, John. He’s still alive for now. We’re just getting started,” she walked out the room and down the hall.


End file.
